


hell hath no fury

by monophobian



Series: Tumblr RP Adventures [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Drabble Sequence, F/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-01 21:50:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16773595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monophobian/pseuds/monophobian
Summary: A few drabbles of gang leader Sakura meeting detective Kakashi.Taken off my RP blog and written for (and with) hataake's Kakashi.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PytViper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PytViper/gifts).



> Some backstory: Sakura's military service as a medic ended when she witnessed commanding officers executing innocent civilians to cover up their illegal activities. She was allowed an honorable discharge and put through residency, finally able to move on at a hospital as long as she kept her silence. And that was the plan, until someone high up worried she'd spill secrets to her new husband and issued an "accidental" Kill On Sight order that landed him on her table. After executing the police officers responsible for her husband's death, she disappeared in the underworld. 
> 
> Four years later, an all-woman gang surfaces with complete control of the city's underworld. The case file lands on Detective Hatake's desk and he finds himself mixed up with the medic from his tours that disappeared after her discharge.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from Kakashi: The sound of the door opening brought his head up, dark eyes squinting to make sure it was that strange woman and not some serial killer. At the moment he was totally reliant on her, the wound to his stomach too much for him to handle alone - hell, he couldn't even move. But he COULD be as annoying as possible. "Your T.V. package Sucks. Ass. You don't even have Netflix? Hulu? SOMETHING? Game of Thrones is on and you don't even have HBO! How am I supposed to live like this? Absolute Squalor."

She was going to kill him.

One would think that one should pay respect to the person that saved their life. That when a person took great personal risk to keep one alive and give them a safe place to heal, one should show said person gratitude. And be polite. And accept any accommodations with a smile with no other expectations.

Hatake missed the memo.

Locking the door behind her, she stepped out her shoes and tossed her bag onto the kitchen counter. Not a damn word left her lips as she stalked into the living room, seeing the lanky form stretched over her couch and an annoyed look plastered to that stubborn face. Well, he wasn’t the only one annoyed and he damn well better learn that soon.

He’d been going on about all these ‘inconveniences’ since he started feeling better. And dammit, he was driving her fucking crazy. She knew it was because he was bored and feeling helpless, but she also knew she didn’t have any fucking say in current state. The man had to heal and no amount of training would hurry up the human body when it was mending a fatal wound.

Still, she snatched the package from the doorstep, knowing it had arrived that day, ripped open the box and into the smaller box inside, and plugged in the Fire Stick to one of the slots on her TV. Connect to the WIFI, configure a few accounts and enter a few passwords, and Hatake’s precious Game of Thrones flashed over the screen.

“Happy?” she snarled, tossing the small remote at his face before stomping out of the room. Maybe a hot shower will wash off the stress of the day. It would at least distract her from the perpetual child currently residing in her home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from Kakashi: Grabbing them by the throat and pushing them into a wall, pushing them into a wall and kissing them with passion, leaving a hickey on their neck.

Hatake had the wonderful ability to argue without uttering a fucking word. It was in his eyes, the harsh set of his jaw, the way he shifted on his feet as he looked at her. She’d learned to ignore it when he was angry at himself or at a situation or someone he worked with. When he directed it at her though? 

She grit her teeth and pulled the string taut before looping in for her first knot. A quick repetition of movements, sinking back into the groove that was interrupted by the anger coming across the room. In, out, a loop and tie, and then the cycle continued. Five more times before she snipped the thread and pushed a salve over the newly stitched gash. 

Aggravation finally boiled over when she stood to put her first-aid kit away in the kitchen, Hatake blocking her way. The man still didn’t say a word, but he didn’t need to. She’d long learned the subtle ways to read him, little nuances of his personality that they both studiously ignored. Usually, she would wait him out.

That evening had been anything but usual.

“What the fuck is your pro–” Her back hit the wall before she finished, the box clanging to the floor. His hand on her throat was enough to silence her, but it was his snarl that kept her fist from snapping up into his jaw on reflex.

The kiss was harsh and demanding and a surprise. She expected a fight, curses and insults and a very different physical reaction. The fight was there in the press of his lips and the nip in his teeth and the hardness of his body, but his tongue tasted of relief. It was the relief that had her submitting, something she once never thought she’d do again.

There was a flurry of limbs. She felt his hand slide from her neck to her breast, knew she hooked her knee around his hip, heard her back slide up the wall, and felt the pull at the stitching on her thigh when he wrapped them both around his waist. The sound of her shirt ripping had her moaning on his tongue but he jerked into her hands when she fumbled with his zipper. 

Relief, so this is what relief felt like. To know they both survived, they were both breathing and standing and they would walk again. Sakura recognized the idiotic notion to _take_ from him, take more than she’d ever allowed herself and she knew in the sweep of his tongue down her jaw and the press of his fingers into wet heat, Hatake felt it too.

His teeth closed around her shoulder when he filled her. The pain was needed, a grounding factor that they were together from the sting he sucked onto that tender skin to the burning stretch of his length thrusting into her. Her hips made a loud rhythm against the wall and dimly, she knew she’d wake to a passive aggressive note from her neighbors, but Sakura couldn’t find it in her to care. Not when the lingering adrenaline coating his skin and the hungry desperation in her voice tasted so _good_.

He felt wonderful, though he always did. Hatake had always delivered what she needed, a harsh slap of hips and he never accepted anything less than her complete attention. Coaxing and gentle touches had no place in their lives, but the violence he fucked her with had seeped into her very marrow, creating a thirst she couldn’t quench with anything but him.

A dangerous thing, really, but not one she was willing to give up.

They remained pressed against the wall panting after and she almost mourned the loss of that connection when he slipped out. The flush of fluid was something she normally couldn’t stand, but Sakura was loathe to leave this small, rare comfort. His shoulders tensed and she read the signs that he was going to move, already predicting her actions to clean up, but her thighs tightened and he stilled.

“Don’t you–”

“Stay.” It sounded foreign on her tongue and a small voice in her head reminded her of what happened to fools, but she sighed when he relaxed against her once more. “Feel better?”

His snort made her smile in spite of herself. “Give me a couple more rounds and we’ll see.”

Fingers combed through his hair as she considered. This relief put a lightness in them they hadn’t felt yet. The barbs held no sting and she– she wanted him again, she realized. Haruno Sakura wanted all that Hatake Kakashi could give.

Her teeth closed over his lobe as she decided that just for tonight, she would get it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 'I love you' said when the broken glass litters the floor.

The frequency of their fights lessened over time. Months had passed since she last remembered the time an argument turned physical, even longer since one of their fists connected. It hadn’t then, not that night – Sakura’s fight took the pent up energy from her and Kakashi…

She didn’t know why Kakashi kept his hands to himself. Maybe because she hadn’t struck first.

The fight had been awful, about everything and nothing and he stood there as she raged. Her scotch glass had ended up in broken shards along the floor, the dent in the wall it hit something she would have to fix. The decanter was no better, finally slipping from her fingers during a tirade and shattering over the floor at her feet.

The silence in the apartment was deafening.

Tears burned at her eyes then. He was taking the backlash, receiving the brunt of her anger in silence and watching her with that solemn, knowing gaze. As if he knew the very reason for her outrage and it wasn’t because of him.

A tear fell down her cheek. Five years, it had been. Five years and still the pain was fierce. She’d grieved, she’d moved on, she’d worked through everything she needed, but now-– 

He was dead and gone and on the very day he breathed his last breath on her table, she was in love with another man.

Another tear at that thought. Looking up at the detective who forced his way into her life with his blunt words, keen eyes, and rough hands that knew when to be hard or soft. She knew in her heart that he would never be replaced. The memory of Aki would always live cherished, but the alcohol muddling her mind blurred the line between Hatake and Haruno. The very idea that Hatake could embody as much of her heart as her lost husband terrified her in ways she hadn’t felt in years.

He must have seen the change in her, that release of anger and he took the moment to step towards her. The first time that night he entered her space. Emerald eyes stared at him in silence as she remained still, emotions long buried clear in that shimmering gaze. A thumb reached up to brush away a droplet and a few more fell in its place.

“I’m sorry.” Never could she remember uttering those words to him before, not when she meant them. “It’s…it’s not–”

“ _I know_.”

 _You know?_ She blinked in confusion, not comprehending the understanding swimming in his eyes before she realized. _Cop_. Detective. He had a file on her. Of course he would know. He’d known for a while this anniversary was coming up. Her gaze dropped then, down to the collar of his shirt and she took a deep breath.

The hand at her cheek moved, cupping her jaw and lifting before his lips descended over hers, soft and coaxing. She returned it, her own lips moving with the slow rhythm he set as the tears slowly ceased their flow. 

She felt another hand palm her back, soothing as it ran up and down her spine. Tension slowly eased, relaxing bit by bit until she was left standing without defense. When their kiss ended, lips slowly moving apart before she felt him remove himself completely, she chanced opening her eyes once more.

There was more than understanding in his gaze then, something she knew echoed in hers and the very thing she was afraid of. _Don’t love me_ , she wanted to beg. _Don’t waste your heart._ It would only end in his death.

And yet, when he leaned down for another kiss, hands pulling her against his chest, she embraced him in return and drank in everything she knew she didn’t deserve.


End file.
